


At The Seams

by Littleredryahood



Category: Phan, awesome foursome - Fandom, danandphil - Fandom
Genre: AU, Awesome Foursome, Death, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Mythology - Freeform, Phan - Freeform, Phandom - Freeform, Violence, ghost - Freeform, psychophan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleredryahood/pseuds/Littleredryahood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the god of the dead is tiresome. Millennia of endless power without an endpoint. Millennia of mindless existence just watching life and death pass by. Millennia of constant hovering between light and darkness, the temptation to just succumb to the darkness going stronger as time passes by. Dan just wants it all to end before he goes insane. Just as he’s about to give up on it all, balance of the world be damned, Phil, a frail looking boy seems to drag him out of the darkness and into the light. But what if Phil isn’t what he seems to be? Will he, like everyone else, leave Dan alone as well? Will he be able to bring Dan fully into the light or will he be the reason why Dan finally surrenders to the darkness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first phanfic, so sorry if it's kinda crappy guys~

_"Of great power comes no great responsibility, only endless loneliness and hovering between the seams of insanity. The world has managed well on its own even before the existence of control. Balance will prevail, casting out the wielder of unsettling power"_

"Another batch of souls has arrived, my lord." PJ, one of the two overseers to the gates of the underworld, says from behind him as he continues to gaze upon his dark 'kingdom' from the couch on his balcony.

Dan turns his head a bit, refusing to move from his usual lounging position, to regard the cloaked man.

_He then rushes at PJ and crushes him to the far end wall with a hand around his throat. He moves so fast that the man's cloak falls back, revealing his agonized face. Both their breaths speed up. Dan could feel his own heart pumping hard as his hand grips the man's neck tighter. The overseer's immortal pulse starts to slow against his palm. He presses even harder._

Dan struggles to focus his gaze on the man in front of him. Breathing fine. Safe. Not crushed against the wall. He discreetly shakes his head, clearing his thoughts before PJ could even notice something was wrong.

"How long before the next one?"  
"About fifteen minutes, sir."  
"Then why are you reporting their arrival to me? Are you going to report back every fifteen minutes when the next one arrives? Don't you think I can see for myself every time an influx of souls enters through the gates from up here? "  
"Just thought you might be bored and needing company, my lord," PJ says, pulling back the hood of his dark blue cloak to reveal a teasing smirk.

_The smirk is then wiped from PJ's face as Dan releases a blast of dark magic from his fingers, immediately decapitating the overseer. His head falls with a thump on the dark carpeted floor and rolls towards his own feet before his body succumbs to gravity and collapses. PJ's immortal golden blood coats the carpet and soaks into his own clothes._

Dan looks away from PJ, afraid the man would see what was going on inside his head.

"Oh shut up. You just want an excuse to lounge about instead of doing your job," he retorts evasively, turning back to regard the new batch of souls.  
"You know me well, sir" PJ chuckles lightly before his face turns serious, "But really, you've been gazing upon the gates quite a lot recently. If you need company, Chris can man the gates just as well without me. I can-"  
"No, PJ I don't-"  
"Or if you want, Chris can come up here and I'll man the gates inste-"  
"Don't cut me off, dammit," Dan raises his voice a bit, cutting off the overseer's determined suggestion. "I don't need company, PJ."

His loneliness was something that can't be cured by mere banter and the futile attempt to finding something in common. It was a thirst deep within him that was doomed to never be quenched. A thirst for something even he didn't know. A thirst that was driving him insane.

"We're just concerned, my lord. The prophecy is a mere possibility, but it is a possibility that might affect the entire fate of us underworld dwellers. We can at least do something to prevent it," PJ insisted.  
"Just go back to your station, PJ"

Fate is not easily twisted. Not even by a god of death such as himself. Especially when it's already unraveling.

"Yes, my lord." PJ inclines his head slightly before pulling up the hood of his silken coat and leaving.

Dan then turns to stare at the imposing closed door. PJ's steps echo loudly against the marble floor of the outside only to get louder as he gets farther from the room, reminding Dan of how empty the halls of his majestic dark palace truly was.

It was a shame. He has a great palace filled with treasure and power. He had guards at his beck and call. He could kill off the entire human population or release the current dead back to the world of the living before their destined time for reincarnation. All in one blink if he wished to. He can have anything he wanted, but not what he truly needed.  
Sanity. Focus. A purpose for existence.

He's been existing for millennia since his immortal birth. He and his siblings have fought the previous rulers of the world to bring about balance and to gain power. They fought with each other over who takes which domain. He got what he wanted. He should've seen it for what it was: a curse.

Gaining power and wealth and being the strongest in the land - it all meant nothing.  
Initially he lived in constant fear that someone would appear and take over the land like how he and his siblings took over the world.  
Then he eventually got tired of it. No one was there to fight. No one wanted to. Being the god of the dead meant that he had to look after the souls of the dead which poured out in millions every minute. These souls are kept in the underworld for a while for judgement then reward or punishment before they are sent back to the world of the living in fragments.

It was a never ending cycle. They die. Come to the underworld. Get judged. Punished or Rewarded. Fragmented. Returned to the living. The only change was the souls' yearly increase in number and even that was a constant.

It was a tedious job. And for what? Nothing.  
The world goes on. Years and eons to infinity and nothing changes.  
Nothing could thrill him - probably not even killing his overseers and guards who have become his sole companions through the passage of time.  
The thought alone drives him insane. With each and every day, he can feel the darkness creeping in. The time would soon come when he snaps.  
The dark thoughts which usually remained within his mind would manifest physically. When that time comes, he won't even be inflicting it on his overseers. He would inflict it on his very self.

Most of his siblings have succumbed to the insanity. His immortal siblings didn't die of battles. They killed themselves and along with them came their territories. It was in the very prophecy the oracle made on the day they separated the world into territories.

_"Of great power comes no great responsibility, only endless loneliness and hovering between the seams of insanity. The world has managed well on its own even before the existence of control. Balance will prevail, casting out the wielder of unsettling power"_

The death of an immortal power wielding god destroys their very source of power and those who rely on it.  
If Dan dies, everyone in the underworld would be obliterated. They'll just cease to exist. They'll be vanished to a void, never to return to the living. The endless cycle will be ruined.

Dan turns his gaze back to the gate, he could see that PJ has reached his post and is now conversing with the other overseer, Chris. They both turn their eyes to him.

Dan gets up and goes back into his room - away from their gaze before the darkness could even fill his mind with the morbid ways he could obliterate everyone in sight.  
Just as he reached the edge of his bed, he felt it. It was as if his brain was being sucked into a non-existent vacuum. His heart felt like it was being crushed. His lungs were burning, unable to grasp air. His bones were crumbling into ash even as his muscles burned and turned into jelly.  
And then there was just nothingness.


	2. Sparks

Darkness. Cold. He was numb. His entire body felt so heavy and immobile. He knew he was laying down somewhere cold. He could smell the distinct smell of the earth, moist fallen leaves, and fresh water. He could hear what seems to be a stream nearby and the tittering of birds. Was he in some sort of forest?

He tried to open his eyes, but they felt buried beneath loads of sand. He tried to move, but his body felt detached from his mind. It was as if he were a soul within an immobile shell.

Then it came back, the phantom pain which seemed to seep into his very bones. It felt like it was slowly melting his muscles, burning his heart, eating out his brain. He struggled to breathe. His heart was pumping too loud, his ears could hear nothing else. Then there was no sound at all. Not his sporadic heart. Not his labored breathing. Not his sluggish pulse. Nothing. Just pain.

He felt streaks of coldness run down his cheeks and a locking pain in his jaw. Something was clawing at his head and he could feel something drip down from his temples. He once again struggle to move, to defend himself from whatever it was that was eating at him, but his body was not his to command.

What was going on? Where was the extreme pain coming from? Where was he? Was he finally dying?

All of a sudden, he felt a spark of warmth. Just a little spark of warmth which was immediately gone before he can fully grasp it. He began doubting it even existed until he felt it again. He struggled to trace where it was coming from, desperate for even just a drop of reprieve from the excruciating chill.

On his shoulder? Yes, it was there. He could feel it more distinctly now. It was not just warmth, it was a grip. A warm comforting grip on his shoulder.

Was that a voice? Something was indistinctly calling out to him yet it seemed so far away. It seemed as if he was listening to the voice from underwater, yet the voice still exuded deep seeping warmth.

Dan struggled to anchor himself to the warm voice and comforting grip, desperately running from the chill and darkness.

_“Hey!”_

There! He can hear the voice a bit clearly now. A deep warm voice calling out to him. A man? He held on to the voice until he felt the chill beginning to ease away and the warm light softy touching his eyelids.

Dan woke up with a gasp. The chill fell off his entire body like a thick blanket of ice and was replaced with the sudden explosion of light and warmth.  
Everything was so bright, for a moment he saw nothing but light. He was blinded, but he never felt more relieved in his entire existence. He would willingly take this any day instead of the bone penetrating chill of earlier. Where was he even? Such abundance of light and warmth didn’t exist in his gloomy kingdom beneath the ground. Has he suddenly stumbled into the world of the living? How?

“Thank goodness, you’re awake!” he heard the voice from earlier exclaim. Was that relief?

The voice was so warm, he instinctively leaned closer to it despite not being able to see anything.

“Hey, you okay?” the voice continued, seeming to take away the numbness with each word.

His eyes began to adjust to the brightness, revealing a blurry mess of autumnal colors. Dan could now make out a hazy dark figure looming over him. Was that where the voice was coming from?

“Can you see me?” a hand waved over his eyes, making him blink a couple of times before the world finally came into focus. He felt his newly regained breath threaten to escape him once again.

Dan’s eyes focused on the most beautiful pair of electric-blue eyes he has ever seen, filled with concern. His gaze moved lower towards the man’s pale pink lips turned down in a pout then to the man’s generally snow-white countenance which came into complete contrast with his midnight-black hair. His gaze moved even lower to the equally pale skin gaping from the open top button of the man’s red plaid shirt.

“Maybe you can’t hear me?” the man asked, seeming to address more of himself instead of Dan.

Dan was tempted not to answer just to listen to the man ask him more questions.

“I- I ca-“his answer was cut off as he begins to fall into a fit of coughing. It was as if his lungs just began to react to the chill from earlier and was struggling to release the toxic cold air.

He then felt the man’s hand, which he realized must’ve been the source of warmth on his shoulder earlier, move lower to soothingly rub his back. He breathed deeply, the warm air immediately sinking into his system, seeping deeper into his very soul, replacing every bit of the agonizing cold with comfort.

“I can hear you. I’m fine now. Thanks.” Dan tries to act composed as the coughing finally ceases.

“Yeah right, you’re fine. Your head is bleeding,” the man carelessly retorts as he brings Dan to a sitting position.

It was only then that Dan notices the dull ache and wetness dripping from his temples. He was bleeding? Why?

He could also feel moisture ease down his cheeks and chin, seemingly coming from his eyes. Tears? He hastily wipes them away.

“What happened to you anyway?” The man regards him with those deep blue eyes now filled with curiosity. “Why were you sleeping by the river? Are you lost?”

“I- I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.” Dan cringed. He sounded suspicious even to his very ears. He seemed like one of those bandits who pretended to be innocent and not remember anything before suddenly showing their true colors, robbing people and killing them. But it was the embarrassing truth. He can’t remember anything. Just the pain, the darkness, and the agonizing cold.

Any sane person would surely either run away or call the guards on hi-

“Okay then, you can stay in my house as you try to remember!” the man says with a grin which immediately reminds him of the look he only found in innocent infants and naive fools.

“But you don’t even know my name” Dan begins to frown which turns into a wince as some part of his bleeding head seems to have been disturbed and bleeds even worse.

“Don’t frown or move your head to much,” the man merely reprimands him before getting up and extending a hand towards him. “We’ll get you patched up when we get home. I reckon mom had some bandages left in a box there somewhere. My name is Phil by the way. I live in a cottage nearby.”

Looking up at the man’s welcoming smile, he took the proffered hand and got up, “Dan”

“Nice to meet you, Dan. Let’s get you home. That a way!” Phil cheerily points towards the darker part of the forest. With his free hand, he takes Dan‘s free hand and starts leading him deeper into the woods, away from the stream.

Dan follows behind him, a blush staining the back of his ears.

_It’s from the exertion and the sudden warmth from the cold of earlier, nothing else. Surely?_


	3. Cozy

Dan trudges behind Phil with his slightly cold hand in the grasp of the mysterious man’s frail yet warm one. Dan felt something odd about Phil’s grasp, as if he was being held but the grip was not tangible. As if he were being held by a hand coated in static. 

Was it his imagination perhaps? Was his skin still slightly numb from the chill of earlier? He no longer cared. All he could feel at the moment was relief from the pain and the strange surge of comfort coming from Phil’s hand.

They went deeper into the woods with dry leaves crunching beneath their feet, the sound of birds chirping in the distance, and the smell of both fresh moss and decaying matter thick in the air. The entire forest was dim, the light merely enough for Dan to see Phil in front of him. The man was so pale that he seemed to glow despite the lack of lighting.

He knew they were close to Phil’s ‘home’ when the trees began to thin down and reveal patches of the sky. The trees just seemed to give way to the sky and there in the center of what seemed to be a round gap in the forest was a quaint little log cabin.

“Here we are!” Phil exclaimed, pulling him faster into the house.

As they entered, Dan was assailed by the cozy scent of pine cones and burnt fire wood.

Phil led Dan towards a recliner by the fireplace and temporarily let go of his hand to set a pouch of what seems to be berries on the kitchen table and start setting up the fire. Not before long, the fire lit up and warmed the cabin.

With the light on, he realized how the inside of the cabin was surprisingly bigger than how it appeared in the outside. Even when the entire interior was basically a lounge, bed room, dining area, and kitchen crammed into one without divisions, the furniture was arranged well to make the house seem cozy and provide private nooks for each space. There were several rugs of what seemed to be real animal furs scattered all over the place – by the front door, by the fire place, by the foot of the recliners, by the dining table, and by the foot of the beds. Wooden carvings of fish, bears, and what seemed to be hunting related trinkets and rustic lamps lay about the mantelpiece, the table, and all over the kitchen.

Dan snorted at how ironic it was that he’s been living in a huge treasure-filled palace for so long yet here he was, mere moments in a tiny cabin, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember feeling any more comfortable and at home.

Phil went back to stand beside him carrying a basin of warm water in one hand and what appeared to be bandages of cotton on the other. He clumsily set them on the nearby table, spilling a bit of the water on the polished wooden surface.

“Oh god, look at these claw marks you have inflicted on yourself. They’re so deep that they’re still bleeding,” He says as he assessed the gravity of Dan’s injury.

“What? What do you mean I inflicted on myself?” Dan’s brows furrowed, causing pain to burn at his temples. “Ow!”

“Stop furrowing your brows,” Phil scolds him as he cleans up the wounds or at least tries to clean as much of the wounds before they went back to bleeding over his rag.

“When I saw you, you were laying there near the stream, curled up like an armadillo. When I approached you to check what was wrong, I saw you were crying. Your mouth was open in a silent scream as you seemed to be clawing at your head and pulling your hair out. I thought you were having some nightmare so I woke you up.”

For a moment, Dan just sat there, staring blankly at nothing in particular as he took in what Phil said. If he was telling the truth, then that would explain why his cheeks were wet and he could taste something salty on his tongue, not to mention his jaw was so sore he barely wanted to talk at all. As for clawing his head, he could now actually see the blood staining the tips of his fingers, some of it were already crusting beneath his fingernails.

What really happened? What was that pain so extreme that he ended up hurting himself without knowing? For that matter, how did he even reach the land of the living?

“Won’t you ask me how I even got there?” He asked Phil who seemed way too nonchalant for someone who just picked up some self-harm inflicting stranger into his home as he cleaned up and bandaged his wounds.

“No”  
“Why not?”  
“You were there on my path home. You seem confused about your surroundings. You’re injured. Now you’re here. That’s all that matters. Besides, it’s been a while since I had company.”   
“You live alone?”  
“I used to live with my parents,” Phil sighs and eases away from Dan after firmly wrapping the bandage around his head. “There you go! Good to go. Now let me cook us both some supper. You must be hungry.”

Dan let the topic go and gingerly got up to follow Phil to the kitchen. He sat on a stool by the table and watched as Phil began gathering meat and other ingredients from cabinets, jars, and pouches in the kitchen. 

The simple act reminded Dan of how his palace was run by magic and how he didn’t even need to eat food as he could live as well without it. Now that he was no longer in his domain in the underworld, would his powers remain functional?

He decided to test it out by trying to shrink one of the carrots as Phil was facing away from him.  
 _Nothing._  
Controlling the blaze of the fire?  
 _None._  
Opening the window and passing it off as a strong wind?  
 _Null._

Dan stared at his now clean hands. Too clean. Clean of even power. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

One thing was for sure: this was something different from merely rotting away in the insanity of immortal living in the underworld like he has done in the past millennia.

He smiled to himself as he watched Phil clumsily chopping the vegetables and seasoning the meat. The man was so clumsy, he almost sliced off his finger and sprayed pepper into his eyes at one point.

He felt so warm and happy he didn’t even bother to think of the questions surrounding the man that was trying to cook in front of him. 

He’d even managed to forget about his sudden outbursts of morbid thoughts and murder.


	4. Stares

_‘I wonder what he’s dreaming of’_ Phil thinks to himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that night as he lay on his side, just looking at the peacefully sleeping man on the bed across from his.

_Dan._

That was a nice name. That was the only thing he knew about the man, along with a couple of details that he volunteered to say. 

He couldn’t ask more about the man. How old was he? What was his family name? Where was his family? Why was he by the stream? He was too afraid to do so. He was too afraid he would remember an answer and suddenly leave.

He would never tell Dan, but the truth is when Phil found him earlier, he was lost himself. 

He found himself just standing in the middle of the forest. He had no clue what he was doing there, what day it was, he didn’t even know who he was.  
He was just there.

All of a sudden he felt a chill surround him. Darkness began to eat at the edges of the forest and close in around him. For some odd reason he felt like he had to escape and began running away from the chill.

As he was running he saw a dim flash of light and warmth. He followed it and the darkness began to ease away. He didn’t even look at where he was going. The light was all that mattered.

It got brighter and brighter as he continued running. Eventually, the darkness receded and he found himself by the stream.

The stream in itself was glowing with a warm white light. Approaching it, he began to hear a hum, a heartbeat, something calling for to him to step in. 

Then he heard an agonized scream.

The pull of the glowing white stream was broken as his attention went the man in black lying beside it.

The man seemed to be curled up in pain and was clawing at his head.

He drew near and kneeled down to see the man’s face. 

_He was beautiful._

His face was scrunched up in agony and tears were streaking down his cheeks. His temples were bleeding from the clawing of his own fingers and his mouth was wide open in a silent scream. Yet he was beautiful.

He didn’t know why but he was drawn to him. This was the answer to everything. He could feel it. He had to stop his misery. He had to touch him.

The moment he touched the man’s shoulder to wake him up, a spark went through him making him take a deep breath and close his eyes.

When he opened them, everything was clear. The forest was bursting with color far from just the conflict of light and darkness earlier. Not only that, memories began to flood his mind.

_Phil._

That was his name. Yes. That’s who he was.

He remembers the feeling of warmth and comfort as he used to live in a cottage near the forest with his parents. The refreshing feeling of his mother’s lemonade after a hard day’s work of chopping up firewood. The surge of pride when he finally shot a deer after his father’s patient coaching. The echoing feeling of loneliness when they were both gone. The great paralyzing pain of something which remained at the edge of his memory.

For a moment, all he could do was stare in wonder at the man he held by the shoulder. Who was he? Why was he here? He had to know. He went back to waking him up.

And just when he was close to calming down his erratic breathing, Phil lost his breath once again.

The man slowly woke up and revealed eyes of the deepest and richest shade of brown Phil has ever seen.

Later on, Phil brought Dan to his home and patched him up. 

Dan would probably leave if he knew how overjoyed Phil was last supper when Dan told him that he had no memories of how he got near the stream or where he even came from.   
It meant that, not knowing where he was, Dan has no place to stay either. It may seem selfish, but Phil immediately took the chance to ask Dan to stay.

“Um that would be nice, but I don’t want to be a burden. Do you reckon I might find an inn to stay somewhere in town instead?”  
“It’s already dark outside, Dan.” Phil insisted.” It would be too dangerous to travel the woods that far at this hour. Besides, you won’t be a burden at all. I have no one with me after all. I like that you’re here.”

Phil swears he saw Dan’s ears turn pink for a while. Did he add too much firewood to the fireplace?

“Okay then. I’ll stay here. Just until I remember what happened.”  
Phil nods eagerly, “until you remember” 

_I hope he never remembers._

The conversation later turned into comfortable banter. They just talked about anything there was – Phil’s clumsiness, Dan’s laziness, how the world must’ve brought them together to create the ultimate disaster, the trinkets on the mantelpiece and the table, and even the berries he added to the chicken. He could feel Dan’s initial reserve slowly fading away and giving way to a more easy-going and rather bold side of the man.

It seemed like they could talk about anything and they would just spring to another topic, never ending the conversation. It was one of those rare moments where Phil felt a deep connection with the person he was talking with. Not that he actually had a conversation with anyone else in a while. At least none he can remember.

Even as they settled in bed, Dan dressed in one of Phil’s older shirts, they continued their conversation in sleepy whispers. At least Dan seemed sleepy. Phil was never sleepy.  
Sometime around midnight, Dan eventually fell asleep – only a snore came in reply to Phil’s joke about counting lizards on the ceiling. Phil remained wide awake and just stared at the sleeping man wondering what he was dreaming of and whether sleep would eventually come to him as well.

Apparently the answer was no. He could already see the soft rays of early sunshine beginning to enter the cabin through the glass windows, but he hasn’t slept a wink. He didn’t feel tired though. He was only impatient - excited for Dan to wake up and for them to start the day together.

_Was I always like this?_

**A/N: I bulk uploaded chapters 1-4 (just got to activate my AO3 account and figured out how the site works coz I'm prehistoric)  
Chapter 5 is in the making :3 **


	5. Doubts

_‘Eat it’ an ominous voice within Dan’s head whispered as he stared at his own hand._

_‘No’ He said, ‘why would I eat my own hand?!’_

_‘Is it yours really? How sure are you?’_

_‘Of course it is. It’s attached to me’_

_‘How about your heart? Is it truly yours? Are you truly you?’_

_‘What the hell are you talking about?!’ He screamed at the voice which seemed to spring from nothing but the void within his mind._

_Suddenly, his hand flicked. Out of nowhere he held a sharp dagger and was aiming it at his own chest._

_**My arm is moving on its own!** _

_He tried to move away from the suddenly sentient arm, but the rest of his body was not his to control either.  
His torso remained unmoving as his arm eased back and suddenly thrust into his sternum._

_Earth-shattering pain creeped from his chest towards his entire body. His spine, his head, his arm, his legs. His body was burning in agony, yet he remained numb. All he could do was stare as his hand twists the dagger and more blood oozes from the wound. It drips down, seeping through his shirt, coating his hand, and staining the endless white floor with splatters of dirty red._

_As if it had enough, the hand slowly releases the dagger._

_**Is it over?** _

_Dan realizes he was wrong as his hand moved towards the wound. It grasped the torn flesh and eased it wider, revealing the tissue, broken bone, and even more of the spurting blood beneath._

_Unable to take in the sight, he closed his eyes shut. However, his hand just continued. It dug in deep, submerging itself in the sickeningly warm and sticky blood and tissue.  
Then it closed around something._

_Dan could feel something plump and warm within his palm. It seemed to be the source of heat within his chest and it… it was beating._

_**Was that-?** _

_His thoughts were cut off as even more agonizing pain overcame him. He had a brief flash of blinding white light behind his closed lids before everything was washed away by darkness. Darkness and pain. He could hear his own distant echoing scream._

_“Dan?” someone called out to him amidst the pain. A familiar voice. Warmth. Comforting warmth this time._

_**Who was that? Why was it familiar?** _

_“Dan!” he could feel warmth on his arm. No it didn’t feel like the same arm that was grasping his heart out. It was a hand that belonged to him somewhere else._

_**Phil.** _

“Phil.” Dan breathed out as he suddenly opened his eyes to the waking world - away from the nightmare.

“You sure have some messed up nightmares” Phil says lightly from somewhere above him.

Yes, he was with Phil. In the cottage. He wasn’t in some dark void with a seemingly detached body. 

_Phil_

Dan’s eyes begin to focus on Phil who was leaning over him with a furrow between his brows. Dan looks down and finds Phil’s hand grasping his arm - his arm which seemed to be reaching out to his chest just as it did in his nightmare.

“I sure do” He tries to say nonchalantly before flicking the arm away from his chest and looking away from Phil to hide his embarrassment. 

“Lucky for you, I’m here to wake you up then!” Phil says cheerily before leaving Dan on the bed and heading for the kitchen.

 _I sure am_ Dan just shakes his head with a wistful grin and begins to groggily get up from bed.

_Was that the smell of bacon and-?_

“I made bacon pancakes!” Phil tells him as he begins to settle plates of the stuff and glasses of milk on the wooden dining table which barely fit the both of them last supper.

Dan moves towards the table and tries not to mouth water at the sight.

Those were no normal bacon pancakes. The wonderful meal Phil set in plates were gigantic pieces of heaven. 

_Greasy melt in your mouth sweet and salty heaven._ Dan decides after taking up a seat and biting into a portion of the bacon pancakes.

He could barely stop his eyes from rolling into the back of his head.

“Good?” Phil asks with a knowing grin from across him, also digging into the feast.

“Could be better” Dan says jokingly even as he tries not to shovel the entire the plate into his mouth.

“Oh yeah?” Phil answers in challenge.

“Ummm…” Dan tries to think of ways their breakfast could be better. “We could’ve had cereal or something”

Phil seems to pause from eating and actually consider the idea. “Yeah we could’ve. I suppose we’ll have to head into town and buy some cereal”

“Whut?” Dan sputters “It was a joke, Phil. Don’t tell me you’ll go to town just to buy cereal?!”

“Don’t worry.” Phil just chuckles “I have a couple of things to buy other than cereal. It’s been a while since I’ve been to town actually…”

Dan notices how Phil’s face suddenly grew confused as he said the last bit.

“Anything wrong?” 

“Nope. Just thinking of how I could possibly buy enough to feed you given how fast you devoured your entire plate” Phil grins and seems to recover his normal self.

Dan cringes as he realizes his plate was now empty.

“Don’t pout, I prepared seconds.” Phil teases him before getting up and taking some more from the pan.

Later on, the two trudge towards town. 

Dan confirmed Phil’s word about the journey going to town. The trail towards town was barely manageable at daylight. It was quite far and had steep slopes. At times, the path wasn’t even visible as it was heavily laden with vines which made it even harder to progress. He never would’ve made it if he tried to travel and find an inn last night.

_How does Phil even manage to get to town at all? He keeps slipping!_

Dan couldn’t count the number of times Phil had to hold on to him before falling into a ravine throughout their journey. 

His ‘It’s been a while since I’ve been to town actually’ from earlier was most likely a euphemism for he never goes to town. He can’t exactly blame the guy.

Now if only he could use magic, things would be easier.

 _None of that now._ He shook his head and continued to follow the man through the path.

It was almost lunch by the time they arrived in their destination.

“Let’s look for a place to eat first?” Dan asked, still grasping for breath.

“Yeah sure” Phil just nods and heads for what seems like a pub.

It was a worn down place. The wooden planks on the outside had gaps big enough to fit a couple of fingers. The wooden door was barely hanging on its hinges and the floorboards by the porch creaked so loud as if they were going to give in any moment. However, there was a considerable number of people eating and drinking within the dimly lit place.

On their way to the counter, Dan could feel the stares of the people on his back. Strangely, none of them seemed to be paying attention to Phil at all.

They didn’t seem to even notice the presence of the over 6 feet pale man with the dark hair in front of him. Phil even had to move away as one of the women carrying a tray full of food and drinks barreled past him. Yet the same woman moved out of the way and murmured apologies when she was about to walk past Dan.

Was it because he was a stranger in the place? But judging by the way Phil struggled through the seemingly unused path on the way to town, Phil didn’t visit this place often either.  
He was about to ask Phil about it, but he was interrupted by a burly man who seemed to be the pub owner when they made it to the counter.

“How may I help you, boy?” The man cheerily asked Dan.

“Um we’d like some lunch please” He answered, unsure why the man asked him instead of Phil who arrived there first.

“We?” The man’s brows furrow for a moment before turning to Phil as if he just noticed his companion’s existence now. “Oh, I see. My mistake. Lunch coming right up. Just take a table and Gerda will deliver it to you guys soon”

_What the hell was that about?_

**Author's Note:**

> You can also check me out on wattpad:  
> https://www.wattpad.com/user/Littleredryahood
> 
> or tumblr:  
> www.littleredryahood.tumblr.com


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